Years ago, I used to hang out at a local yarn store that was owned by some friends. I went every week for the social knitting night, and it was one of my favorite places to be. It was a welcoming space for any and all who might be interested in fiber arts of all kinds, and we had a pretty diverse group of regulars. I loved being there, and it was the only place I ever bought yarn and supplies, unless I was traveling.
Aaand, like any fiber arts aficionado, I have amassed a rather impressive stash as the years went on. The store is long gone, but I still have some of the yarn I bought there. So when I dove into my stash bins to find something red for a Melt the ICE Hat, I discovered a skein of yarn from the shop. I remembered that I also had some stitch markers that had been made specifically for some of the yarn shop regulars.
I am sure I mentioned how welcoming the space always was. Anyone was welcome. It was a safe space, and we cherished that. It wasn’t as much about the politics of it, as it was about basic common decency and the belief that everyone deserved to feel welcome and safe.
So, of course, I pulled out the needles I bought at that store, my personal stitch markers, and the yarn, and cast on my hat.
It’s not my best work, and the pattern had a few places I had to rely on my own experience, having made hats before, but I love it. It’s a hat that actually fits my giant head, and shows where my heart lies.
Everyone deserves to feel welcome and safe.
My stitch markers, and the hat in progress.
My finished hat.